My aging body aches & creaks
as does Creation, what’s new?
Feeble eyes catch but blurry peeks
Soon I’ll be out of here, phew!
What if my body is but mere glove
of That Eternal Self High Above?
Not Poetry. Quatrain Verse in English & Swedish. Dagsverser. On the Mundane & the Arcane.
My aging body aches & creaks
as does Creation, what’s new?
Feeble eyes catch but blurry peeks
Soon I’ll be out of here, phew!
What if my body is but mere glove
of That Eternal Self High Above?
Heavy breathing, hoarse wheezing
Lungs pumping, thighs in pain
Gripping handle bar, squeezing
Stretching the squealing chain
Guts, strength & stamina explored
Cresting the flat road my reward
She’s wrapped in haute couture
a mere distractive detour
as with purloined demure
she’s all exigent allure
So if you can’t withstand seduction
your fallback may be harm reduction
+)
-harm reduction = a public health strategy that was developed initially for adults for whom additction abstinence does not seem feasible
Between Fantasy and Reality
there is now little or no friction
rather perfect congeniality
Dancing cheek to cheek with swift diction
For who’s got time, awash in verbosity,
to pay much attention to dichotomy?
The celeb culture vicarious
we imitate in limp ballet
as our own talents but scarious
we ape in mawkish cabaret
A hapless homily
but no anomaly
On days sloshing way below the brim
am mired in torpid emptiness
Just hobbling along aging’s path dim
cobbled with paltry pettiness
Then scope blows in by writing verse:
Found humor in what had seemed curse!
Finding humor in what I curse.
In the daily juggle
between truth and ruse
where’s the strength to struggle
with what seems abstruse?
Figuring out what Life asks is tough
so easier just to look for stuff!
Unthinkingly the blowhard
old fogy and diehard
keeps chasing every canard
blown across his barnyard
He’s prone to swinging the axe
before checking out the facts
+)
-canard = an unfounded rumor or story; a baseless, usually derogatory story or report
-facts = as in ‘factual evidence’ – to be ignored when perceived as standing in our way
In human commotion
the fledgling thought crisp & clear
soon blurred by emotion
tears us between hope & fear
That’s why saved-by-the-bell distraction
shall always hold such sweet attraction
and melting down in glower
let’s hang back & closely observe
the gentle limber flower:
Allow her abiding stillness
to squelch our contentious shrillness